


How Icarus loved the Sun

by SkarpetkaMroku



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Crush at First Sight, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Past Abuse, cant think of more, graphic description of violence, i am going to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkarpetkaMroku/pseuds/SkarpetkaMroku
Summary: Sloane was a Phoenix.This one thing Cassandra was sure.She rose from ashes of Nexus' Rebellion, stronger, more powerful. Her flames burned her enemies to dust and warmed her followers.She was the sun itself, so warm that you wanted to crawl closer to her, so bright you could not look at her directly.There were times when she burned people to the ground there were times when It was Sloane who burned till all that remained was ashes.But still one burning coal was enough for her to come back. One flaming amber. Little spark almost suffocated by ashes. It's all she ever needed to come back.Or at least that's what Cassandra thought.





	How Icarus loved the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joufancyhuh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/gifts).



> This is long long fucking long late gift for my ever so patient friend Jo. Hope you will enjoy it dear :) And dont worry about mistakes i will probably edit it one hundred times more before i will be satisfied.

Some say freedom gave people wings.

If it was true, then Cassandra was born with ball and chain at her leg.

Forged by her family, strengthened in the blood of her father.

A weight always bringing her down.

Making everything harder than it should be, harder than it was possible.

Making even the smallest things impossible feat. 

And s he used to be content with her little  impossible  wins. Others got it easy. All they had to do is just beat their wings and done.  But not her. She was bound to earth, burdened with extra weight. This way even little things done became a lifetime accomplishment. 

Cassandra was happy with them.

Or maybe…

Used to be?

Her joy was softly, lovingly, delicately killed by people around her. These who named themselves her friends and who scoffed at her, when she was happy with her little deeds. Who filled her head with words she didn’t want to heard. 

Scoffs. Irritation. Accusation. Comparisons. Nobody understand her, nobody tried. All they did was judge. 

And she was so tired of it. So tired of being silent. So tired of following other people shadows, stretched on earth, while all she ever wanted was to spread her wings and soar into sky. 

So Cassandra made a plan. She knew she wouldn’t be able to escape her chains by herself, she tried and tried so many times. Lose all her teeth trying to bite off her restrains. Broke all her fingers pulling chain.

The Alliance cut her off. It was a blow that buried her ten feet into ground. But she still had fire within herself and she refused to gave up, believing that universe will give her chance.

(She deserved it. She fucking deserved it.)

And it did.

Cassandra heard about Andromeda Initiative from friend's friend, who actually heard about it from some long lost cousin or so. She knew, she knew, she knew it was a gift from above, for he r ! A metal cutting tool to set her free.

She didn’t hesitate. A new universe, a new people, a new chance! She watched Initiative's vids about their project with wide grin and tears streaming down her face, so many times she knew its lines by heart.

She didn’t hesitate.

She wanted, she needed. 

And wasn’t afraid to use people, no matter how small  they were , how big, she wasn’t afraid to lie and cheat, squeeze out of them what she needed to the last drop. This was her chance for a new life.

And she wasn't afraid to play dirty for it.

In the end she achieved it. A mixture of lies and half truths, that set her free.

As she laid in Crypod, slowly breathing in anaesthetic that was suppose to put her in coma, she made a decision.

Nobody else helped her get where she was now. 

Did her family bribe her doctor to write her better opinions than she deserved? No.

Did they help her, when she was doing shitty favours just s o  one asshole official would put her on backup list? No.

Did any of them even get interested when Cassandra said she was going to another Galaxy? No.

They didn’t give a damn about her, so why should she care about them?

No.

Cassandra knew she could count only on herself. Nobody else helped her get where she was now. Nobody else would help her if she fell down. And she was tired of staying behind other people. She might not be born with wings of hope and freedom like other people, but that didn’t meant she couldn’t have them.

So she made a decision and created them herself.

She moulded them from wax and feathers of her sacrifices. All by herself, through hard work, through sweat tears and blood, she build every bone and muscle and tendon, perso nally placed every little or big feather. Fragile things, made  with so delicate  materials , yet when Cassandra closed her eyes falling into cryopod coma she could felt for the first time in her life their strength. Her strength.

And then she woke up struggling take a breath.

Panic swallowed her whole. Surrounded by darkness, she choked, feeling tears of helplessness falling from her wide open eyes, when she again and again hit cover of Cryopod. She had her wings, at least, but what good could they bring her if she couldn’t even spread them, suffocating in small coffin?

And then when she almost lost all her hope, lost her last breath, darkness suddenly was broken by light. Flood of light blinded her eyes and in the middle of it was a person.

No, not a person.

Maybe it was dizziness from lack of oxygen but Cassandra could swear she saw a personification of Sun alone closed in human skin.

A mismatched eyes on hard face, skin warm, so warm, when she grabbed her chin asking her if she was ok.

She was. At least now she was.

Sloane Kelly was a power alone. She seemed to be the one and only pushing entire Nexus forward. Like Atlas carrying oh her shoulders the entire weight of so many people's future. She was amazing. She was exclusive. Sublime. Cassandra's heart seem to lost all senses when it comes to her.

She understood now why old Daedalus said to Icarus not to fly close to sun.

How easily would it be to just melt in Kelly's arms? She knew that would happened if she ever let herself be carried by this feeling. Cassandra feel like moth tempted by light, she couldn’t stop herself from coming closer, couldn’t reason with herself to take a step back. But Sloane wasn’t a delicate moon, covering everything with light silver glow. No. She was a sun in full zenith. She brought heat, she brought light. She resonated passion, making everybody ready to face any challenge.

But she could be also deadly up close.

Something in Cassandra, something old and wise, knew that coming close to that raw power, no matter how tempting would be her end. She knew if she would fly too close to the sun, her delicate wings of freedom would melt away, again jailing her. But in contrast to Icarus, she wouldn’t fall to the ground. She knew if she come too close she would let this passion devour her, she would let herself be enslaved to Sloane.

She wasn’t ready for this.

No, no, no. She wasn’t.

Freedom was still such a novelty for her, she wasn’t ready.

Beside what could she possibly give to the Goddess of Sun?

Fortunately she didn’t have enough time to worry about this.

The food supplies were melting. There were no news from Arcs, no Pathfinders anywhere in sight. No habitable planets anywhere close. Leaders seem to worry only about arguing. Station was falling apart, and the means to repairs it were slowly running out.

No hope no hope no hope oh no no nonono.

Cassandra didn’t even realise when her nervous habits come back. Once she fought hard to stop them, now she was thankful for their distraction. When she dug her nails deep inside skin of her palms, when she bit her nails till she could taste blood on her tongue, when she dug her fingers in her hair, tugging hard. All that till all she could concentrate was pain and not the thread of slow slow death.

 

Sloane was another small relief of Cassandra.

During the day just watching her busy herself with work, was so soothing. The sole knowledge that somebody who could just sit with another leaders and argue, instead came to them, to the low and small to help, to work together, raised spirit of all, Cassandra including. She couldn't stop herself from feeling happiness whenever she saw Kelly, feeling like there was a promise of future hanging somewhere in the air.

Still she resigned herself to small glances, shy gestures.

Sloane wasn't her. How could she want to have her all to herself? How selfish could she be knowing how much others depended on her?

Cassandra whispered to herself this words over and over again trying to get rid of her lust, trying to get a hold of herself.

But during night… during nights Cassandra ignored all bans, all reasons why not and just let herself be driven by the passion. She dreamt of fire, of sun closed in person, warm enough to heat her aching bones, hot enough to burn all her problems. She dreamed of burring her face in warm brown skin, of encircling broad strong shoulders with her arms, of soft words without meaning whispered into her skin, of moans, of slow motions, of pleasure between two souls alone.

Looking at it now it wasn’t even shocking that at some time Uprising broke out. Actually Cassandra was a bit surprised that it took so long.

The screams. The missing guns. The violence. The hunger. The right decisions? Not so right?

Cassandra was happy her wings were only metaphorical, because she would pick all her feathers from nerves.

Part of her wanted to join the Rebellion. Because weren't they right? They just wanted to a right to information, something that should be crystal clear, something that nobody should ever be forced to fight for. They didn’t want to be lied to. 

At the second hand… Hydroponic almost burned because of them.  And she saw her warm Sun, saw how Sloane was fighting against them. How could she betray her, stab her in the back and join them? No no, she could not.

She would survive this. Like always. Like anything before this moment.

Cassandra wrapped herself in her wings, in this unsure moments taking comfort, of fact that she had them. Of fact that she worked hard for something. Of fact that she managed to accomplish something. Of fact that she for once fought for something with all her strength. No. Not for something. For herself. For herself alone. And she won.

She let that thought silence screams when Tann set Krogan free. Or at least she tried.

But she still heard. Screams. Begging. Supplication. Shouting. Shoots. The way screams suddenly turned to wet noises.

This fucking wet noises.

Oh god. This was not what she was looking for. This was not why she went to Andromeda. This was not why she made herself a pair of wings. Fuck. Fuck. This was definitely not why, not for this sick wet noises. Everything but that noises.

They ate her brain, part after part. Cassandra couldn’t close her eyes not to be drown in memory of that sounds, of breaths stopping suddenly, heartbeats shattering. She could still feel blood in air, at the tip of her tongue, spoiling her every meal with a tang of metal, even days after end of Uprising.

No. Nonononon.

The Nexus didn’t feel like home any more. She craved to get away. She felt like memories of what happened settled on her skin. Making it itch. She craved to scratch it to the bones, shed it like sneak. She couldn’t look any more at the Leaders without hate. Did they know what they did? Did they hear screams? Did they hide from the ugly part of their decision and ignored it? Did they know they killed her friends? Did they regret it even a bit?

She hated every one of them. Cassandra knew she was right. How could she not? But still…. Did Sloane approved of that decision? Still part of her wanted to believe her Sun Goddess didn’t take part of it all. She still wanted to believe in her. How stupid could she be?

“Childish, that's what you are Cassandra” she thought to herself carried with crowd to the tribunal set for Rebels.

And then she spotted her. Fierce like lioness. Proud and strong.

Among the rebels. No. Not just one of them. Their leader.

Cassandra muted all news about Uprising. Too big coward to join them like lots of her friends, too tired with all this to believe Leader. Suspended somewhere between all, she regretted her every move every choice. Too burdened with outcome, with violation, with violence, with loss, she decided to ignore everything.

When did Sloane joined Uprising? Why she didn’t know? No matter no matter.

This was the last straw and she knew what she needed to do.

Get away.

Away from this people, she thought pushing through people. Away from this place, closer to crowd. Away Away Away Away

So she did.

She joined Rebels without anybody noticing. Stood right behind Sloane, feeling her world shifting its axis, at least to the right angle. She was actually one of first people boarding the shuttle.

As she watched Nexus slowly disappearing, smaller and smaller, as she felt her breath come to her easily again, Cassandra knew she was ready for changes.

Some men with green eyes, one of Nexus security officer, that followed Sloane, now she remembered, handed her gun. Alien thing in her fingers.

She denied when he asked if she have any experience.

Listening him she made a decision.

“Nobody will shelter you from now on. Your biggest, the most reliable and trustworthy ally is now that gun”

Yes. No more nice girl. No more relying on others.

“Lock your elbows while shouting. Be prepare for recoil. And never never hesitate”

Yes. No more hesitation.

She knew who to trust now, she thought watching Kelly shout orders.

She watched her tame mob with violence.

Sloane was a Phoenix.

This one thing Cassandra was sure.

She rose from ashes of Nexus' Rebellion, stronger, more powerful. Her flames burned her enemies to dust and warmed her followers.

She was the sun itself, so warm that you wanted to crawl closer to her, so bright you could not look at her directly.

It was her who talked first to Angaras. Not some stiff Initiative Official.

It was her who decided to take over Kadara.

She had her falls, but she always rose from them, one spark, one burning ember was enough to let her come back. Stronger. More powerful. More ruthless.

Warrior Queen of her people.

Vengeful Goddess.

All this time on Nexus Cassandra told herself to be reasonable. How could she possibly be even thinking about being close to somebody… so much better than her? But now everything was different. She was different. Sloane was different.

Being off the station was as much liberating as it was terrifying.

It was the first time Cassandra truly understood how big the universe was.

Its true, she had to take even the worst jobs to be even remotely financially stable, but it was first time she felt so free, she was soaring through skies, wings in full blown. So free.

And she danced. All night, all day. Inside Tartarus it was so easy to lost track of time.

Who cares about peace when you could dance? Who cares about Nexus or Arcs when you could spread your wings and just be free? Who cares if its night or day when the music still play? Who cares about the world when she could still taste vibration on her tongue?

She was bird in the in the highest phase of flight.

Hummingbird with its grace. Falcon with its speed.

For the first time in her life she was in her element. No rules and no laws, no restrictions no requirements. 

How she loved it! 

All thanks to Sloane… If only she could be close, closer closer to her. She still had a gun Green-eyed Ex officer gave her. Now it was her best friend, her guardian, her familiar calming presence. He alone helped her get a new gig in Outcasts. Something small and probably not really important, but she was ready to climb hierarchy ladder. Up to the top, no matter how long would it took. To the peak, to her Queen.

She didn’t bother anymore to hide her admiration with Leader of Outcast.

She speak of it with everybody who bothered to listen.

To honey worded smuggler, who seem to live in Tartar's private room. He send her all saying smirk, and bought her a drink.

To the pink haired woman in shining shining armor, who shot her only careful look, running away. Whatever, no matter.

How odd it all ended so soon.

She was in port when it happened. Happily indulging her favorite fantasy, while rushing to the Outcasts' headquarter for her first official job.

She at the feet of Sloane. Small smile of satisfaction on both of their faces. Small smiles on them and nothing more. Her mouth itching to whisper sweet nothing, her fingers so close to encircle warm brown skin of Sloane ankle and then…

Screams.

Screams broke her from her sweet fantasy. Shock. Fear. Small whistles of surprise.

There.

High above her head.

A body tied with lopes of ropes still jerking, from impact, dropped like sack from higher level of port. Here eyes concentrate on man tying the rope. Green eyes that seem to link with her for a second before tactical camouflage swallowed the man.

And at the second end of the rope… was her.

A wound after bullet. So small, only a center of bloody rose blooming on her chest, but for Cassandra it looked like enormous hole in her chest. Like somebody ripped her heart out.

Or maybe ripped Cassandra's heart out?

No.

It wasn’t true.

No no nononono.

It was just a mirage.

Just an illusion.

Sloane was a sun, a fire, a phoenix.

There was times when she burned people to the ground there were times when It was Sloane who burned till all that remained was ashes.

But still ashes was enough for her to come back. A one burning coal. One flaming amber. Little spark almost suffocated by ashes. It's all she ever needed to come back.

Stronger. Better. Faster.

Immortal Queen. Heavenly Goddess.

Or at least that's what Cassandra thought. She wanted to believe it was all just an illusion, trap set by Collective, but…

But no matter how deep Cassandra dig in extinguished ashes, how much  she burned her fingers in heat of dying fire, she could not find even a spark, even one red ember of hope.

Nothing.

All this time she thought she made a freedom for herself, but staring at the dead body of Sloane Kelly she discovered that her wings, her self-made means to this freedom, without warm of her goddess hardened to stone.

Too heavy, too stiff to fly, at the same time too brittle too even move. She knew all they needed were a bit of warm ans she could fly again. But she knew she knew she knew she knew she would never find it again.

Rooting her to earth.

Till the end of her time.


End file.
